I remember the first time I saw myself as a painter. I was in a famous black professor of art’s studio. He took me under his wing. I’m not sure if he thought of it that way but I was swept up in the magic of the smells of his studio. Charles Rogers changed my life I those moments of simply saying “do you think it is done? Are you sure you feel done? Give me another hour of that painting.” It drove me to madness and in that madness I found my style. Now when I paint I search inside for the madness to lead me. The colors are the wild beast screaming just under me heart and fingers. They are a pipeline to restfulness. I can always tell a “real” painter from a talker of art because that madness is a drug I crave and it leave a look in the eyes. A hunger that needs more then food and sleep and sex. Honestly until my Alec nothing but the madness gave peace and rest. She saved me from me. I have to push my self to the edge of madness with the brush and her heart beat is my anchor.
Tag: artist
My first job ever I was 15. I worked at a theme park taking pictures and developing 1,000 negatives a day. I have always loved cameras as long as I can remember. My mom had a old camera with lots of lens and a rainbow thread shoulder strap. Still to this day i wish she would give it to me. I’m not even sure it would still work but it was just so beautiful.
I remember the day in college I learned I would have to take pictures of my own work. I felt really nervous mainly because I had so many amazing friends who were photographers and I didn’t see my self as one anymore. There was this theory i subscribed to that said “you are only one thing 100% at a time.” Naturally I outgrew that but it took me a while.
I have so many cameras now but my new one is my Holga.
It is a very simple camera but it makes me happy and I figure that is the point.
jaws_blake 